


Small Digits

by Joanne_Lupin



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Crack, Dogs, Glee - Freeform, M/M, Texting, little numbers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 03:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joanne_Lupin/pseuds/Joanne_Lupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A parody of Little Numbers by LJ's iknowitainteasy. Hannibal forgot to save Will's digits, so when he gets a random text from an unknown number, he thinks it's a stranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Digits

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Little Numbers](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/9821) by iknowitainteasy. 



> This came out of an idea for imaginewillanddogs, my Hannibal fluff tumblr, and sort of spiraled from there.
> 
> Most of the texts are taken from Little Numbers, but I edited a few to fit into the context.

Hannibal was still kicking himself. He'd made a mistake. He felt like a derp.

Yesterday, he'd decided that such an unstable patient as Will needed a lifeline, so he had given his new patient his cell phone number. 

Maybe he'd been too busy thinking about the yummy lungs he wanted to eat that night. Maybe he'd been too tired from staying up late and murdering. Maybe he just plum forgot. But goshdurnit, he'd forgotten to save Will's number in his own phone.

Hannibal was still silently berating himself when his cell phone rang. The caller ID flashed: "Unknown Number." He unlocked his phone.

(2:33 pm)   
Hey, would you mind meeting me at 4 instead of 3? A dog just threw up on me (no, really) and I have to make a detour. 

Hannibal's brow furrowed.

_(2:35)  
a) Who is this? and b) Why do we have a meeting? and c) How does that even happen? Mostly a) though._

(2:36)  
Oh god, sorry! This must be a wrong number... Never mind.

Despite himself, Hannibal's interest was piqued. 

_(2:37)  
I'm never gonna hear that story, am I?_

(2:39)  
You're oddly interested for a stranger. It's not even that great a story.

_(2:40)  
What can I say? I'm having a dull afternoon. You could've been my savior._

(2:41)  
Pay attention, you might get something out of it! Gotta run! Sorry again.

Hannibal couldn't help but feel a little dejected. Would he ever get to text with this mysterious stranger again?

_(2:42)  
...are you a philosopher? Anyway. Goodbye then, puppy magnet!_

The half hour or so was remarkably dull for Hannibal. There were no fascinating, possibly delicious strangers to text with. It was a bummer. In addition, Will hadn't shown up for his appointment. He had been so excited to pick his new patient's encephalitis-ridden brain. (He could smell the stink of the disease on Will from a mile away. That was one brain he would definitely _not_ eat. Encephalitis tastes icky.) 

Finally, Hanny's train of boredom was derailed as Will Graham shuffled into his office. "Sorry I'm late," the patient said. "One of my dogs threw up on me."

_That sounds oddly familiar..._ Hannibal thought.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I had to make sure he was okay, and then I had to get cleaned up. I tried to text you, but I guess I typed in your phone number wrong."

_Oh yeah, duh._

"No, I think you had the right number. My mind must not be in the right place- I should have realized... Maybe I ate some bad liver last night."

"Liver?" Will inquired. "I'm not a fan."

Hannibal smirked. "Oh, you'd like it if you tried the kind I make..."


End file.
